


Just ride

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Horror, Character Death, Demons, Horror, M/M, Seduction, Shapeshifting, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 10:43:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17827097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: Gerard is a taxi driver. One night, he comes across Sergio, who is gorgeous and funny, and that's exactly why Gerard has no idea why he is interested in someone like him. Sergio, on the other hand, has a very clear idea.





	Just ride

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I did this, a demon probably possessed me (how accurate), but since I declared 2019 the year I get out of my comfort zone, I took this pairing as a challenge, and well, horror is something I don't really write. I'll leave it up to your judgment if it's actually scary.
> 
> I especially apologize to all of my friends who love these two, feel free to kill me for this.

The engine falls silent.

“Fuck it,” Gerard growls while trying to find the keys of his cab. This is the third time his car has stopped working without any apparent reason, only this week. Now it’s happened in the middle of a crossroad. Luckily he doesn’t lose his head completely and manages to start it again, steps on the gas and tries to ignore the angry hooting behind him. He’s the only driver to get through on this green light.

Fearing it would happen again, he quickly finds a parking lot. Although he’s not quite a mechanic, he believes in checking himself first before letting the auto service have his money. The hotel parking lot isn’t nearly as full as it usually is at this hour.

“What the hell is wrong with it?” he mutters while unfastening the seat belt. He bought the car six months ago, an older one. A good deal, twenty percent off and only twenty thousand kilometers. Apparently the seller forgot to tell him something.

He waits for a car to pass, then opens the door and walks over to the hood. He looks at it and sighs - he still forgets about it, even after six months. The little button under the wheel that opens the hood.

“Sometimes it would be nice to have my brain with me,” he sighs and returns to the car to push the button.

He can’t do it with the door open as another car wants to pass him by, so he gets in and closes the door again. As he’s sitting in the car, he looks in the rear mirror, right in his own eyes, thinking about calling it a night. Just go home. Leave the car in the garage, shower and go to the bar across the street to have something to help him sleep.

He’s single, and apart from his driving, his life has no direction at all. It was great at twenty, but at thirty-two, he feels kind of stuck. Thinking about what his life should look like doesn’t let him sleep, and that’s why he needs help. He only knows two kinds of this hep - one helps by clouding his mind, the other one - more expensive, since he values quality more than quantity - by exhausting him physically. One would stay with him until morning, the other not even five minutes after they were done. Option number two, however, has started to remind him too much of what was originally causing his insomnia, which made him reach more for option number one.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there when he hears a knock on the window. He shakes his head and pulls the window down. A gorgeous, gorgeous man is standing there.

He can be about Gerard’s age, shorter than him, definitely, but with just the body Gerard would call perfect. The combination of warm brown eyes and neatly combed brown hair makes up for the heavily tattooed arms, as Gerard has never really liked these.

When the window slides all the way down, the man cocks his head and flashes Gerard a bright smile. “You’re free?”

Gerard’s heart jumps almost all the way up to his throat. Someone would say it skipped a beat. He almost answers him when he realizes that the man is asking about his taxi, not his personal status.

He nods. “I can manage one round more,” he says with a smile and starts to pull the window up while the man proceeds to sit in the back seat. “Where to?”

He’s having a surprisingly hard time to sound indifferent.

“Oh, not too far, just to this bar.” He hands Gerard a visiting card of a shady bar on the outskirts of the city. “If you know the way. If you don’t, I’ll direct you.” All the time he’s speaking, he’s looking at Gerard, and smiling.

“Sir, of course I know where it is. I wouldn’t be the best taxi in town if I didn’t.” A bad attempt at a joke, really.

“The best, you say?” the man asks, making himself comfortable in the back seat. “We shall see. Can you make it under ten minutes?”

His question kind of catches Gerard off guard. He never wagers with his clients, but he has nothing else to do tonight, so he tells himself why not.

“Of course I can. If not, I’ll have to dance for you in the street.” That’s a daring - and stupid - option, but the man seems to like it, since his face lights up.

“Cool. I should offer something in case you can to it, right? So… how about a drink? You said it was your last round, so you can have one with me.” It doesn’t sound like a joke. Maybe he does like Gerard a bit?

“That sounds like a perfect offer.”

“Deal then. Let’s go. Now!” the man says and pushes a button on his phone.

“That’s not f…” Gerard doesn’t finish his sentence about it not being fair, because he turns the key and steps on the gas. He’s on the road in less than ten seconds.

The time passes quickly, but both of them seem to be confident to win. Ten minutes is doable. Gerard only prays for his car not to die on him this time. But it doesn’t happen, and he stops the car in front of the bar in exactly ten minutes and twelve seconds.

The man, who introduced himself as Sergio during the journey, does a little winning dance on the seat. “Seems like someone owes me a dance here!” he says with glee.

“Yeah, it seems like it. A bet is a bet,” Gerard says and takes off his FCB cap. They both get out of the car and stand next to a tree growing out of the sidewalk as a pitiful reminder of an attempt to make the city greener.

“Do you want some music or can you do it without?” Sergio asks and looks even more eager. He seems to be really enjoying this. He pulls out his phone and shows Gerard a small speaker connected to it. Gerard just shakes his head and starts to dance without a word.

Sergio catches quickly on the rhythm of his steps and starts to at least clap his hands to it. He laughs all the way through, heartily, and when Gerard ends his number with a little pirouette, he bends over completely.

“Satisfied, sir?” Gerard asks with a smile, albeit breathing a bit too hard.

“Absolutely, Mr. Taxi, absolutely,” Sergio says and wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I think you deserve a drink for this, even though you lost.” He bites his lip a little. Gerard feels like he’s completely lost now.

“If you think so, I’m not opposed to the idea,” he says with a smile. His eyes must be shining, and the last thing on his mind is the car and how he’s going to get home, or if he can just let it stand here.

“Let’s go, then,” Sergio says, and seems to consider something for a while. Then he just nods and starts towards the entrance.

The bar isn’t full yet and they get a box that hides them from everyone’s eyes, except the bartender’s, and that’s quite enough.

The evening goes great. The right level of fun. They speak about politics, music, movies, football, Gerard tells Sergio how he became a taxi driver and Sergio speaks of his job as a fitness coach - _well, that’s where the body is from_. Most of the things Sergio tells Gerard about himself seem to be out of the book called “The Ideal Man For Gerard Piqué”. He can’t believe someone so perfect wastes his time in a shady bar with Gerard when he could be doing anything with anyone. Sergio, however, looks like he’s having fun, laughing at Gerard’s jokes. Sometimes Gerard wonders if he didn’t hit himself in the head.

With midnight approaching, Sergio looks deep in his eyes while sipping on his Cuba Libre and smiles. Lays a hand on top of Gerard’s. _Jesus._

“Gerard, do you believe in magic?” He looks at him with complete seriousness.

“You mean, like… Harry Potter, changing into animals and stuff like that?” he asks, unsure if it’s just a joke or a serious question.

“Yeah, something like that. For example… body transformations and swapping life energy…”

His serious expression is starting to scare Gerard a little, because why the hell would a fitness coach be interested in that? Isn’t that something for middle-aged women with a life crisis?

“Oh, well… I don’t know much about it, so I’m not sure if I believe in it. Maybe some time ago, there was something, but now… now we have science, don’t you think?” He doesn’t really know what to say, so he opts for what he believes t be a diplomatic answer.

“Maybe you’re right, magic has been long forgotten, but don’t you think it would be beautiful if it existed. If we could live something unreal.” He looks kind of dreamy now, but something in his face suggests he knows what he’s talking about. But how could he know what he’s talking about?

Gerard has no idea what to say. Especially when Sergio saw right through his attempt at dismissing it. “I think a lot of things would be better. But it’s hard to imagine. I’ve never really thought about it,” he says truthfully and hopes it will work.

“You’re right, let’s forget about it,” Sergio says with a smile and looks at the screen of his phone. “Maybe I should go, it’s late and I think I had more rum than I should have had.” Then he cocks his head and looks Gerard deep in the eyes. “Don’t you want to walk me home, Mr. Taxi?”

Everything in Gerard screams at him to just look at Sergio - he’s a gorgeous guy who can totally take care of himself on the street, and definitely doesn’t need a loser like Gerard for anything. But although his reason is screaming for attention, it’s in vain. Gerard decides that today he will use option number two to help him sleep.

“I would like that very much indeed,” he answers after a split second of thinking.

The journey doesn’t take long, as Sergio lives only a few streets away from the place they spent the last five hours at. On the way, they hold hands and talk.

On the way up to Sergio’s apartment, they are already stuck to each other, barely managing to coordinate walking up the stairs with kissing.

Gerard has no chance to have a look at Sergio’s apartment, because he’s being dragged straight to the bedroom. There, Sergio pushes him on the bed and looks at him hungrily. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere,” he says and runs to the bathroom.

They both know it’s a sign for Gerard to take off his clothes. When the door to the bathroom opens again, he’s at the socks, but after he lifts his head, he forgets everything but the image he has in front of him.

Sergio is perfect in every way possible.

“Would you like to see some magic?” he asks lustfully. Gerard can’t quite tell if he lusts after him, or after the magic.

“Show me,” he says. By no means Sergio can be serious, and he has to smile at the double sense.

“Do you really want to see it?” Sergio asks, and Gerard feels like he’s truly turning him on by that.

“There’s nothing I want more,” he says and feels the proof of his words between his legs. He’s as ready as he can be.

“Say something you’d want to be different. Anything.”

Gerard doesn’t even have to speak, suddenly he has an image in his mind, an image of Sergio, but with slightly longer hair and younger face, and significantly less tattoos on his body.

And then he’s there, Sergio, just as Gerard imagined him a second ago. He can’t believe his eyes, but in the state he is, he doesn’t care as much as he should. It’s a miracle, but not the biggest miracle of the day.“How…” he manages.

“I’m an incubus, not a human,” Sergio says seriously, and starts to approach him slowly. Every step drives Gerard more and more crazy, he can’t wait any longer, but he can see the desire in Sergio’s eyes, the desire to be asked.

“What does it mean?” he asks and hears his voice shake with lust.

“You’ll see, soon,” Sergio whispers in his ear when he gets close enough to touch him. He pushes him a little bit and Gerard falls back on the bed.

Then Sergio climbs on top of him and with no foreplay, no preparation at all, simply lowers himself down on his cock.

For a moment it’s the best feeling Gerard has ever felt. A firework in the core of his brain, a surge of life rushing through his veins, making his heart beat too fast. And the sight of Sergio above him… tan skin, muscles taut, the sinful smile… Gerard feels like he’s dreaming.

The moment of bliss, however, disperses faster than a drop of paint in the ocean.

Gerard feels a jolt of pain right where he should feel pleasure right now, and he feels hot, too hot. The feeling is disgusting, and he looks at Sergio with confusion, but Sergio is writhing like he’s enjoying it immensely. Gerard, on the other hand, feels like he’s… Biting him. Yes, that’s the feeling, Sergio is biting him.

“What- what- what…” He can’t push the words out through the pain and confusion engulfing him like dark waters.

“What’s going on? Is that what you want to ask? Oh, well, I should probably explain to you what an incubus is, you uneducated pig,” Sergio says, and his lovable persona is gone, changing into a sarcastic and arrogant, and _sinful_ creature. “Did you really think a man like this would be interested in you? Or laugh at your jokes? Did you really think I was enjoying your company? Did you really think… hell… that I would support Barcelona?”

Gerard still stares at him, trying to get out of his grip a few times, but failing. He can’t move an inch and the pain doesn’t let him scream. But it’s not just the pain. He’s tired, he feels like he’s losing energy too fast, and doesn’t know how it’s possible.

“So, to make it short. I’m a demon. I suck energy from men, like a vampire, only not from your neck but…” Sergio laughs at what he thinks is a great joke. “I think I’m really the best in the world at sucking.” He seems to be enjoying the explanation and the horror in Gerard’s eyes almost as much as the act itself, still moving on top of him in dirty semi-circles. The more Gerard fades, the more Sergio seems to glow.

“You know, we are really good at making ourselves what the men want us to be. I got it almost perfectly… I might have made a wrong step with the tattoos, but I just love to add them every time,” Sergio smirks. “The only thing I hate about this life are the used skins.”

But he’s only telling that to another skin. There’s little more left of Gerard than what would make him a great masquerade costume.

Sergio climbs down the bed and relaxes a little. For a moment, his body changes back to its original form, a horned demon with scales and claws and red eyes. With another breath, he puts on a face of a young boy with long hair and lanky body, just enough curves to catch the eye of a random pervert on the street. He looks at himself in the mirror and has to praise himself for looking so good.

Given that Gerard was really a pathetic loser, he’s not fully sated. He will need one or two more victims tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I was hesitating if Sergio was actually a succubus or and incubus, I mean... demons don't have genders anyway, and they could probably be both at once. I just think Sergio would think of himself as of an incubus.


End file.
